The rain was pouring, razor-thin sheets of the ungodly stuff pounding against my raincoat as I approached the front door of my mistresses’. I rang the door bell, which echoed through the halls of their luxurious, three bedroom brownstone which was, inexplicably, not in Canada, but rather in Cleveland, Ohio. From within, I heard the music which had been playing–an acoustic guitar, someone singing, and someone playing a drum, most likely, live, –cease, and the voice of one of the sisters Quin called out “Hold on!”

After a moment, the door swung open, and there stood Sara…or was it Tegan? I could never tell. “jason…what are you doing here?” she asked.

Milady, I have just received terrible news and decided that I must come to your residence forthwith!”

“Um…OK, dude. Whatever,” Tegan…or was it Sara? said to me, her eyes rolling in her way.

She led me to the drawing room where, to my surprise, was the other of the twins, and…a third Quin sister??? “Misses Quin and Quin…I was unaware that you were triplets! Astounding!”

This third Quin sister looked up from the drums, confused. “What’s he talking about?”

One of the sisters, and I’m sure it was Sara, said, “Man…you’re weird. This is Kaki King. We’re Jamming.”

“Oh!” I exclaimed, taken aback. “Milady, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Any friend of my two associates surely is a person of caliber!”

Kaki crinkled her face. “Duuuude?”

Tegan cut her off. “It’s OK…he’s always like this.” Then, the lovely Ms. Sara turned to me inquisitively. “You said that you heard a thing?”

“Ah, yes! A terrible…I’m sorry. Misses Quin and Quin, Ms. King…you three look so much alike. It’s Uncanny! Anyway, it seems your old arch-nemesis, Doctor TC, has returned, and he has issued a challenge against you from his secret lair!”

Kaki stood up. “Girls…what is he rambling about?”

Tegan turned to her compatriot. “It’s Tyler the Creator. The media has been rewarding this creep for his album, which is filled with Misogynistic and Homophobic lyrics.”

“What did he say, as if I care?” Sara inquired.

“Madam, I am almost unwilling to say. It was so harsh, so…villainous, that I fear what your reac–”

Tegan and Sara, as well as their friend, stood in silence. At first, I feared that they may “kill the messenger” so to speak. Then, I feared they would do nothing. But finally, Ms. Tegan took action.

“Sara, Kaki, …um, Jason…TO THE CAVE!”

…

Moments later, we were 2 stories beneath the brownstone, in the crime lab of Tegan and Sara. Sara approached the giant computer screen against the northmost wall and said, “Computrina, dial up Alpha…we need his help.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” a computerized voice responded. Then, over the speakers, a mans voice, nasal and staccato, issued forth. “I’m kinda busy…we just had a baby and all. What do you need?”

Kaki stood in shock. “You guys have a fully-functioning crime computer? All I have in my HQ is a Mac-book and a police scanner! And is that John Darnielle?”

“Kaki? Nice to hear from you again! You rock! What so you need?”

Sara frowned as she put on her mask. “It’s Tyler the Creator again…he’s issuing statements from his lair. We need to find it.”

“I’m on it!” JD’s fingers could be heard frantically typing away at his keyboard. “OK…I think I have a lock on him…got it. He’s at East 153rd…the abandoned skatepark.”

Tegan swung her fist in the air. “We’ll get him for good this time! Quick…to the Quin-jet!”

Sara put her arm on Tegan’s shoulder. “Not so fast, old chum…you are forgetting one thing.”

“Yes?”

“We can’t call it the Quin-jet. Marvel Comics owns that shit.”

…

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to us, something was stirring at the skatepark. From beneath the half-pipe, in the darkness, voices called out to each other.

“I’m not crazy!!! You can’t make me do this!” shouted one voice.

A much deeper one responded, “Tyler…you’re going to do this…you f#####g need to. It’s the only way you’re going to get respect. Don’t worry about anything. I’m your therapist; I wouldn’t lie to you. Now put on the cape…”